Wings
by SnipersInTheTrees
Summary: "Well, Birdie, you always said you wanted wings. Now you've got 'em. Do me a favor and forget all the stuff that happened, but don't forget me. I know I won't forget you." T for suicide and swearing


September 7, 2013

The rain poured down, hitting the windows and causing the familiar sound to ring out in the otherwise silent church. Matthew had always loved the rain, so it was fitting that the weather was wet and cold today. The world's most awesome and un-awesome day. I sat down in front of the window, loosening my tie and running my fingers through my hair, the way Matthew always did. Damn, why are people so loud when setting up for shit like this!? Deciding to go outside, I put my head down, letting the rain soak my suit almost instantly. Today I was in an almost dazed state, Ludwig said he had called me for almost an hour to wake up before finally giving up and coming to drag my ass out of bed. But I guess he kind of expected that. I could tell by the way he asked if I was okay more than once that morning and in the past few days. Even Francis and Antonio called, to see if I was okay. But I'm not. I'd stopped watching where I was going, trudging through the field that surrounded the small church, making sure that I got as far away as possible.

...  
September 7, 2001

"Hey. You look weird."

"What's wrong with your eyes?"

"Are you a vampire?"

Those were only some of the words that tormented five-year-old Gilbert on his first day of school. He had never really though about how he looked until that day, and now that Gilbert thought about it, he did look weird. But he was too awesome to play with everyone else, because they weren't awesome enough to be worthy of playing with Gilbert. Soon, the teacher had announced that everyone had to find a partner and an activity. '_Fine_.' Gilbert thought '_I'll just find someone who is doing something worthwhile'_ .

"Hi." Gilbert said, walking up to a few kids who were currently building something out of lego blocks, "I'm gonna play with you, okay?" he said, more of a statement than a question.

The four boys looked up, and the spikey-haired one answered first "But there's no more room." He said defensively, stretching out his legs in the space where Gilbert would have sat.

"Go find someone else to play with, you don't even have a partner. I'm already partners with Matthias, and Tino and Berwald are partners too." A bored-looking boy answered.

"Yeah!" The first boy- Matthias- said "And you look like a bad guy, because only bad guys have red eyes, right Lukas?!"

Hitting Matthias on the arm, Lukas' expression never changed "Just decide what you're going to build, idiot."

Gilbert crossed his arms, frowning slightly "Whatever, you're not awesome enough to play with me, anyways" And with that, he walked away, looking for someone else to play with. Glancing around the room, Gilbert had yet to see anyone worthwhile. There were two girls playing with the dress-up things, one with dark brown hair and a stuffed fish, the other had short blonde hair and a purple ribbon. Another girl with long blonde hair and glasses was sitting in a beanbag chair and reading a book with a blonde boy who also had glasses, him telling her about computers and how interesting they were. There was a Russian kid with almost purple eyes who was playing with two girls who looked like his sisters, one clinging to his arm protectively and the other looking tearful and homesick, though the boy looked both frightened and creepy. Some Spanish kid was cuddling with a very annoyed Italian, who was shouting profanities, but not catching the attention of the teacher, somehow. A blonde boy was playing with a French boy and a British boy, yelling something about "I'm the hero!" The only other people in the room were a boy and a girl- the girl Gilbert recognized as living on his street and the boy she was telling here about pianos and music while they sat in a small play house.

But Gilbert saw no one to play with.

Feeling rather dejected, Gilbert sat down at a small table in the back of the room, which seemed unoccupied. Grabbing a piece of paper, Gilbert drew a bird- or rather, a bunch of birds. One big flock of 'em, and standing in the middle, he drew himself. Chuckling quietly, Gilbert smiled. That would be his new title from now on- Gilbert, King of the Birds.

"Is that you?"

Looking up quickly, Gilbert realized he wasn't alone. A blonde boy with wavy hair and violet eyes sat across from him, drawing a polar bear, "Yeah. I'm Gilbert, King of the Birds."

Chuckling quietly, the boy smiled and introduced himself "I'm Matthew." he said, looking back down at his picture and scribbling the word 'Kuma-something' on his paper beside the bear.

"...I'm gonna call you Birdie"

...

September 7, 2008

"Wouldn't it be cool to have wings?"

"What?" Gilbert looked over at the blonde he called 'Birdie' questioningly.

Matthew was watching the birds in the trees. Currently, Matthew and Gilbert were sitting in the park on a deserted little hill and doing nothing in particular. Well, Matthew was trying to hide hid bruises and doing a shitty job of it, and Gilbert was trying not to ask about it, even though he knew well what they were and what they were from. It was quite obvious to the self-proclaimed Prussian what was happening in his Birdie's home life. No one just misses a few days of school then comes back with cuts and bruises that are very badly hidden.

"I mean, I know it's impractical, but it would be nice to just be able to fly away and not have to really care about anything." Matthew said, laying back on the grass.

"Then you wouldn't have to worry about anything. Then you'd really be 'Birdie'"

September 7, 2011

"Hey Birdie, haven't seen ya in a while! How've you been?" Gilbert asked, throwing an arm around Matthew's shoulders, getting a pained wince in response before the timid Canadian spoke.

"I've been good. And I've only been gone for two days, you couldn't have missed me that much." Matthew chuckled, rolling his eyes to hide the pain.

Quickly, Gilbert pulled away, looking at Matthew curiously. The two were sitting outside the school, eating lunch where it was quiet. In the sunlight, it was very easy to see the bruises that marred the pale, milky skin of his best friend. Frowning, Gilbert moved so he was sitting straight across from Matthew "What did he do to you?"

A look of panic and shock crossed Matthew's face "W-what!?" he asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

"It's really obvious Birdie. You gotta get out of there. Now what happened?" Gilbert said, his face softening and he wrapped his arms around Matthew's chest in an attempt to comfort his friend.

All Gilbert achieved with the gesture was a pained noise from Matthew. "What's wrong with your chest? ...Your ribs?" Gilbert questioned, holding the other by the shoulders.

"Th'yrebr'ken" Matthew mumbled, looking at the ground, which had suddenly become really interesting.

"What?" Gilbert asked, taking a moment to decipher what matthew had said "Wait what!? How many?"

"...Seven." Matthew answered, looking like he had just watched a kitten be drowned.

"Mein Gott, Vogelchen, warum können wir nicht einfach normalen sein für einmal?" Gilbert sighed. Not once had anything been normal. The two had always been different from most people, which is partially why society made them both outcasts, and best friends.

Giving a sad smile to Matthew, Gilbert stood up "Come on, Birdie. Let's go Google how to heal your ribs."

September 4, 2013

It was 7:30 in the morning, and Gilbert was in bed. Well, he was passed out on the couch with a hangover. His words had been "Fuck the legal drinking age" and that was that. Ludwig watched his brother sleep, wondering how he could find comfort in the sprawled-out position he had assumed before passing out. Sighing, the younger german went to make coffee.

While in the process of making the aforementioned coffee, the phone rang. After glowering at it for a moment (it did break the perfect silence, after all) Ludwig answered.

"Hello?"

"Is this the residence of Gilbert Beilschmidt?" The voice on the other end of the line said in an official sounding tone.

"Um, yes. Shall I go get him?" Ludwig asked, looking warily over at his sleeping brother.

"Yes, thank you"

Walking over to the couch, Ludwig pulled the blanket out from underneath GIlbert in one quick motion, sending the man tumbling to the floor, "There's someone on the phone for you" Ludwig said simply when Gilbert looked up at him from his spot on the floor with anger and confusion.

Muttering profanities, Gilbert reached up and took the phone "What do you want?"

"Do you know a man boy named Matthew Williams?"

"...Yes. Why? Did he finally report that sonavabitch?"

"I'm afraid not. I think it would be better to tell you what happened in person."

In a dazed panic, Gilbert scribbled down the address the woman on the phone told him and sped off to what seemed to the adress. Stumbling through the doorway, Gilbert found that he had been directed to the hospital and walked up to the front desk, ignoring the weird stares he got from people. Apparently, seeing a teenager in a hospital dressed only in his boxers and a wrinkled T-shirt was an odd sight.

"I'm here for Bird- Matthew Williams." Gilbert almost-shouted, wincing at the sound of his own voice.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt?" the receptionist asked, looking up at the boy.

Gilbert responded with a hurried nod, watching as the woman stood "Follow me, please" She told him, turning and walking down a hall. Gilbert was close to follow, worry and dread pooling in his stomach. Why was he at a hospital? What happened to his Birdie? Was this just some cruel, sick joke?

"Mr. Williams' family is in here" The woman said, stopping in front of a door and immediately leaving Gilbert alone in the hall. Come to think of it, he had never actually met Matthew's family. Well, other than Francis, who was Matthew's cousin. Just as he reached for the doorknob, Gilbert heard a crash coming from the room, and quickly opened the door.

"How did Matthew live with you for seventeen years of his life!? No wonder he killed himself!" Francis yelled, clutching his nose that was starting to bleed from where Matthew's father had punched him.

"He... What?" Gilbert asked, looking at the two people in front of him. His Birdie couldn't be... dead. Could he? No. Nonononono.

Francis looked at Gilbert sympathetically, handing him an envelope with his name on it. Pulling Matthew's father out of the room, Gilbert sat in a chair, pulled his knees up to his chest, and carefully slid a thumb under the edge of the envelope, easily ripping it open. Inside was a simple not scrawled on lined paper.

_ I'm so sorry. _  
_ -Matthew_

After reading the three words, written in Matthew's familiar printing, Gilbert curled up in his chair and cried until Francis called Ludwig to come bring him home, though in the car ride back to house, Gilbert was still silently sobbing into his knees.

...  
September 7, 2013

"Gilbert?!"

A voice brought Gilbert out of his thoughts and made him realize that he was sitting under a tree, completely soaked and sobbing silently once again. He looked up to find Ludwig quickly approaching, his suit now soaked as well.

"Gilbert," This time it was a sigh of relief.

Silently, Gilbert picked himself up off of the ground and followed Ludwig back to the church, readying himself for the ceremony.

...  
September 8, 2013

The wind blew through the trees making and eery sound as Gilbert stood, staring at the tombstone in front of him.

Matthew Williams  
1996-2013

There was no saying, no sentence saying how he will be missed, or that he was a good person, or that he was loved. Nothing. Just a pair of angel wings. Sitting down in front of the tomb stone, Gilbert pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, smiling sadly.

"Well, Birdie, you always said you wanted wings. Now you've got 'em. Do me a favor and forget all the shit that happened, but don't forget me. I know I won't forget you."

...

A/N Uh, hey guys. SORRYSORRYSORRY. I'm just gonna say that I don't know German, and can only speak it minimally from when I lived in Austria for about a year. And the people me and my brothers stayed with spoke Russian, so we mostly just spoke Russian. Anyways, the German is supposed to say: My god birdie, why can't we be normal for once? or something along the lines of that. I know I should probably update Who Would Have Guessed, but I'm in the police station waiting for my brother to be released and they don't have wifi, so when I post this I'll probably already be working on it. I don't know what possessed me to write this. God this is depressing. I'm so sorry, you guys.


End file.
